


you could call me babe for the weekend

by grantairemrys



Series: the evermore 'verse [4]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gwaine (Mentioned) - Freeform, Holiday Traditions, Songfic, devolving into minimal morning after angst, morning after fluff, thank u as always to miss swift
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-04
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-15 10:15:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29187660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grantairemrys/pseuds/grantairemrys
Summary: For someone who's never bothered much with the holidays before and prefers to spend it alone, Merlin finds some kind of poetic irony in this little holiday tradition he has with Mithian.
Relationships: Merlin/Mithian (Merlin)
Series: the evermore 'verse [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2104599
Comments: 5
Kudos: 11





	you could call me babe for the weekend

**Author's Note:**

> MERTHIAN NATION LETS FUCKIN GOOOOOOOOO
> 
> writing this ficlet gave me all the damn fuzzies. merthian is probably my fav bbc merlin rarepair and this is just me being all soft about them because god DAMN i really thought they were gonna be endgame. i think of the merthian phase merlin twt had at one point a lot and this is my (v late) contribution to it sskksksks
> 
> as usual, i do not own bbc merlin or any of its characters :D title from tis the damn season, which makes me miss the winter even if i've never experienced it ever.
> 
> alright let's get to it <3

Merlin cracks an eye open. The space beside him on the bed is empty, but he can feel the mattress dipping down at the end. He cracks his other eye open and there's Mithian sitting at the foot of the bed, tangled brown hair falling down her bare back.

Merlin feels his lips quirk up in a small smile. "Morning," he croaks.

Mithian turns to him, and her eyes light up. "Hey." She crawls back to his side and slides back under the sheets. The smile she gives him is soft and lovely and the only thing Merlin wants to wake up to every morning. "Morning to you too."

There's a moment of silence where they just look at each other and grin helplessly, and it's a nice kind of silence.

Merlin quirks an eyebrow at her. "So.... do you plan to kiss me sometime in the next century or–"

Mithian rolls her eyes. "Ew, no. You probably have morning breath."

She kisses him anyway.

\---

Later, much, much later, Merlin's squeezing honey into his porridge. Mithian, who hates the stuff, is sipping coffee while perched on the countertop and wearing nothing but the largest shirt of Merlin's she could find. The sky's a sad shade of gray, and the snow outside is a dirty white to match. Merlin thinks it's one of the gloomiest weekends he's ever seen.

The living room's visible from where he's sitting in the kitchen, and he can see Mithian's bags where she tossed them last night after she showed up on his doorstep fresh from her father's house, in a flurry of scarves and designer perfume and hopeful brown eyes.

For someone who's never bothered much with the holidays before and prefers to spend it alone, Merlin finds some kind of poetic irony in this little holiday tradition he has with Mithian. If he told his 15-year-old self he's spent the last couple Christmases hooking up with the most beautiful girl in the world, he'd probably be laughed at. It had started three years ago with them falling into bed together after one of Gwaine's infamous holiday ragers. For some reason, they did it again the next year. And then the year after that.

And now here they are.

"So," says Mithian. She's hopped off the counter to refill her coffee, and while Merlin thinks it's probably not healthy he knows better than to get between Mith and her caffeine. "How's life, Merlin?"

"Oh, y'know." Merlin waves his hand. "Nothing remarkable about it." It's true, there's not much adventure in managing his ancient uncle Gaius's equally ancient pharmacy downtown. "How about you, miss movie star?"

Mithian gives him a flat glance over the coffee mug. "A tiny role in a Netflix series is hardly being a movie star, babe. Speaking of movie stars, there was this one time....."

Merlin could listen to her talk about bitchy co-stars and Hollywood gossip forever.

"And then," Mithian continues, grinning conspiratorially, "The director comes back, and Vivian still thinks the phone she hid was mine. She didn't know the director and I had matching phone cases, so there. Director goes absolute nuts, has everyone upturn the entire set looking for it, and lo and behold– it was in Viv's trailer."

Merlin's eyes go wide. "Oh shit. What'd he do?"

Mithian wrinkles her nose. "Not much, she _is_ the daughter of the production company's CEO. The director was still mighty pissed about it though, called her childish in front of everyone."

They're still laughing about it when from the bedroom, Mithian's phone begins to ring.

"Shoot– _fuck_ , that's," she gasps, putting her mug down and making for the stairs. "That's probably the alarm."

Merlin sighs, and pokes listlessly at his now cold porridge. Mithian always sets an alarm for 4 hours before she flies back to L.A. so if she gets caught up in traffic during the commute, she still has loads of time.

Merlin hates that alarm.

When Mith comes back down, she's back in the clothes from the night before. "I've called a taxi," she says, heading into the kitchen and chugging down the last of her coffee. "It's probably outside by now."

"Oh. That's, um, that's cool." Is all Merlin manages to say as she walks out into the living room and sweeps her bags up. He follows her, hands in his pajama pockets and heart in his mouth like it always is every year.

He opens the door for her as she winds her scarf around her neck. The cold breeze that enters makes both of them shiver.

"So." Mith turns to face him, wry smile on her face. It's a far cry from the smile she gave him earlier that morning. "Till next year?"

Merlin's facial muscles are doing something. Whatever it is, he hopes it atleast resembles a smile. "Yeah, till next year, Mith."

Mithian looks at him like she's waiting for something. The tiniest twinge of hope rises in Merlin's chest, and he feels the words _are you sure you can't stay?_ weigh heavy on his tongue. He opens his mouth.

A taxi horn sounds, harsh and abrasive to his ears, and they both startle. Merlin feels the courage almost physically fly away from his being, and he knows right away the moment is lost. He clamps his mouth shut and swallows.

The light in Mithian's eyes dim and the corners of her lips fall, but only for a second as she beams again at him. Merlin can tell it's fake by a mile.

"Bye, Merlin." She murmurs, leaning in to kiss his cheek. He can still smell coffee on her breath, and he feels slightly dizzy. Then she's out the doorway and into the taxi, zooming away to L.A.

Merlin closes the door and watches her go. He feels cold, but he knows it's not just the weather.

**Author's Note:**

> <33 kudos + comments would be really appreciated! mwah


End file.
